


Dead by Weird Characters

by Astinate69



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2020-07-23 15:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20010382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astinate69/pseuds/Astinate69
Summary: As the Entity is a creature that feeds on human emotion and thought, it has the possibility to pick up "hive mind" ideas, such as popular culture characters known as "memes" and incorporate them into it's world. Join the journey of our beloved characters (and an edgy OC) as they have to deal with wacky and zany characters such as Chad Thundercock, Doland Blumpf, and an unnamed incel! Also I guess the killers are falling into this AO3 idea that they're all horny monsters.





	1. Chapter 1

Another day, another strange trial completed. I didn’t escape; the killer having offered to the Entity to kill us by his own hand. I guess the Entity agreed.

When it was done and over with, I used my spectral form to monitor how Meg would get out. What was strange was that I guess Michael got horny and fucked her brains out, in no way that was peaceful. When she got back to the campfire, she looked jarred and wouldn’t talk to anyone. I understood, though. It seemed like nowadays all that the killers wanted to do was fuck the females or fuck Quentin, nobody else.

While we were at the campfire, a thick collection of mist swooped something down from the sky, and when it cleared the large figure of a man appeared. He was knocked out cold. What I first noticed was the ludicrous clothes he was wearing, such as piss-yellow shoes, painfully bright green pants and a ripped tank top exclaiming the message, “Ouch!”. He had toned, muscular arms, and a chiseled jawline that looked so sharp it could cut through concrete. Atop his head was a blonde mohawk, ending in a fine point. Something that I didn’t want to notice about him, but I still did, was the large bulge in his pants.

All the girls (except Meg) seemed to swoon over him, especially boggling at the aforementioned bulge. As they were gripping his arms, he stirred, then slowly woke up. He groaned, wiping his eyes and asking, “Where the hell am I?” He opened his eyes wide, looking at the girls surrounded around him. “And where did all these chicks come from?” he questioned with a sly grin. As all the other guys and I watched in disgust, the girls’ breath hitched in their throats, and they giggled. Meg looked on with a hopeless expression. “So what’s your name?” I asked. He stared straight at me, his bright blue eyes piercing through my soul. “Chadwick Thundercock. But you can call me Chad.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chad's arrival brews trouble between the other survivors.

As the twilight shifted into pitch darkness, Chad went into a tent for his “beauty sleep.” When he said those words in the slimiest, but smoothest, way humanly possible, the girls seemed overflown with admiration. Kate was the only one willing to do something about how she felt. “Don’t mind if I join you, do ya?” she asked, a playful grin on her face. Chad turned back. “No can do, cowgirl. Before I was taken here I benched six plates, and I forgot to drink my protein shake beforehand so I really need some sleep.” He went into the tent as Kate, looking disappointed, sat down on a log near the campfire. I watched as Ace, despite hiding an ace of kings in his sleeve, lost a game of war to Ash (who hid the phone ace of spades back in his pants pocket). Ace turned to all of us, taking us in for a moment. “What’s gotten into you guys? You’re all acting like this Chad guy is oozing out libido or something, and frankly you’re acting immature.” Although he had focused on his card game before, I knew that he was listening and analyzing to the situation. That was just something he always did. I asked him about it once, and he explained that he had learned it while making risky moves during games of poker back in Argentina so he would know if someone was getting ready to take him out. Jane was the one to snap back at him, partially shouting with the slightest hint of a Spanish accent that gave her words that added flare. “Well it’s not our fault we haven’t got dick in like, I don’t know, two years. What are we supposed to do, take up Dwight? You’re all pretty much old men, and I know I don’t want that white boy Quentin.” Dwight, who had perked up at the mention of his name, went back to chewing his nails and looking at the ground. Quentin just listened with the usual exhausted look. “Yeah,” said Feng, “all of us except for Meg. I heard that Michael got violent with her.” Meg, who had been listening, seemed startled to suddenly be the center of attention. Wrinkles formed at the corners of her eyes and her bottom lip quivered. She looked over to me. “Did you tell them about that?” I defended myself. “What? I wouldn’t tell them!” I heard knuckles cracking and looked over to David. “Ya know,” he cracked the knuckles on his other hand. “if ya ladies ever needed help with your needs, I could be the man to help ya out.” The women ignored him, used to his flirtatious comments. Meg was crying now. I watched as Feng rolled her eyes. “I don’t see what your problem is. Isn’t Michael ripped under that boiler suit? His cock must be at least eight inches.” Me and all the other guys seemed shocked that she would say something like that, but none of the girls were protesting. “Anyway, I'm going to sleep. I’m sure I’m going to be in tomorrow’s trial.” She went into a tent. The other girls followed soon after. Bill, who hadn’t said a word ever since Chad showed up, took a long draw from his cigarette, something he only did before he would say something. “Everything here has been a damn mess ever since that Chadwick guy crashed into here.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chad gets into an altercation with the Wraith

It felt like this guy had been on my ass for hours. In the time that I was doing my best to not get placed on a hook, no generators had been done. A ripple of air whiffed against my back as he swung his sickle and missed. I had made it to the shack, a good spot to waste the killer’s time, even though it didn’t seem like it would matter. When I woke up this morning, I had been chosen for the trial along with Chad, Jane and Kate. From the moment we made it to the junkyard, Chad was already wasting time flirting with the two instead of getting generators repaired. As I ran past stacks of scrap metal, in the distance I saw Chad, leaned against a wall talking and laughing with Jane and Kate. “Can you fucking dumbasses get some generators done!” I yelled. Chad, looking startled, looked up from the girls and in my direction. He made the “talk-to-the-hand” gesture to the girls, walking towards me and the killer. The Wraith seemed to tire of chasing me at that moment, seeing Chad and going towards him instead. When he raised his sickle to attack Chad, his attack was stopped by Chad’s muscular arm. Chad looked at him, then towards me. “Is this guy giving you problems?” It seemed to be a rhetorical question, as he started punching the Wraith in the face, the latter of the two making elephant-like sounds. Kate, Jane and I watched in awe as the Wraith cowered against a barrel, hiding his head with his arms. Chad dusted his hands, putting his hands on both of the girls shoulders and walking off with them as they giggled and whispered to each other. The Wraith was crying, although I felt no pity for him. He had killed me several hundred times by that point, so instead of consoling him or talking to him, I left. The rest of the trial went by fairly slowly, as Chad and the two girls still wouldn’t repair generators, so it was all up to me.  
When we all got back to the campfire, Quentin asked how it went.  
“What? Oh, Chad beat up the Wraith.”  
The conversation stopped. Everyone looked at me, taking in what I just said, then at Chad. He was smirking. “Yeah, that’s right. I almost gave him a swirly, but I felt bad for him, so I just let him cry somewhere. He had no chance against me.” Whispers swept through everyone. “You… you fought back? Can you teach us?” Most of the group seemed to agree that Chad should teach us how to fight, except for David, who was muttering, “Already know how t’ fight jus’ fine… don’t need this fra’ boy…”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another unexpected newcomer arrives.

I despised the Wraith.  
I know what you may be thinking, even if it isn’t something you’re thinking at all. “But wait, unknown author of this journal which I have found due to finding myself trapped in the realm of the Entity! Where did the names of the killers come from?” First of all, my name is Luke. Second of all, you’re dumb. Isn’t it obvious? The Pig wears a pig head. She’s called the Pig. The Trapper uses bear traps. He’s called the Trapper. But for some killers, there’s a bit more to the etymology of their titles. The Wraith hasn’t always been called the Wraith. He was the second killer to ever actually show up here. Same time as Claudette in fact. When Dwight and Claudette were the only survivors here, they stuck with more simple names for the two killers. The Trapper was Chuckles, and the Wraith was Ghost. But the  
Luke’s hand cramped. He pulled it back in surprise, dropping the pencil in the grass. “Shit!” he exclaimed. He dropped to the ground, searching for the pencil, desperately hoping that it hadn’t been swallowed by the Entity in the short time it had been out of his grasp. His hands swiped across the ground. “Where is it, where is it!?” He felt a presence behind him. He stiffened up. A hand placed itself on his shoulder. He had experienced this many times before, whether it be when he was working on a generator or when he was looking in a chest. He turned around.  
Chad’s smiling face greeted him. He loosened up. “What’s the matter, little buddy?” Luke cringed. Chad had accustomed himself to calling him that, and he hated it. Oh how he hated it. “I dropped my pencil, man. It’s my only one. I can’t lose it.” Chad looked past him into the grass. “It’s right there.” He reached past Luke and picked up the pencil, dropping it into his lap. Luke looked down to the pencil and back up to Chad. “How did you find it so fast?” Chad shrugged. “Guess I just got a keen eye.” He patted Luke on the shoulder and went back to join the bumbling conversation around the fire. Luke looked down at the small notepad at his side. He had read the text on the front what seemed like a million times. More than that. A billion times. Everything you did here gnawed on you until it felt as if you had been doing it for an unfathomable amount of time and would be doing it for an eternity more. ‘Mfr. 1978.’ it read. A notepad from the 70s in Luke’s hands. How cool was that? Not at all, according to literally everyone else. He had brought it up with Laurie one time. “Hey, look, this was manufactured when-” He had stopped talking due to the death glare he received from her. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought up the year when her brother murdered all of her friends. He winced just thinking about it. Everyone makes mistakes, he tried to assure himself. Everyone. Everyone… except Chad. Chad could do no wrong. He had perfect hair, a perfect face, a perfect body, a perfect… woooah, that’s a bit lewd. It was unsettling how flawless he was. Luke, lost in his contemptuous thoughts, failed to realize the chatter around the fire had come to a hush. A murder of crows had flown above the group, followed by something enveloped in dark mist descending from above. “What’s going on?” whispered Chad. “It’s another one of us.” replied Meg. The thing reached the ground, slowly settled, and then cleared of the mist. An old looking man had been inside. He wore a very expensive looking suit, his hair was frankly quite offensive to look at, and his skin… was it spray tanned? The man snored very loudly. He was out cold. Claudette shouted to Luke. “Luke! Get over here.” She and Luke were the ones in charge of taking care of newcomers until they regained consciousness. Luke snapped out of his trance and got up, walking over to the rest of the group. Claudette held the man’s head up. “Does he look familiar to anyone?” Nobody spoke up. “He’s…” said Luke, struggling to find words. “He looks like Donald Trump. But, like, he also doesn’t. It’s weird.” The man’s eyes shot open. That was a new record. Nobody ever woke up that fast when they first arrived. But wait… Chad did. Strange. The man’s eyes darted around, taking in everyone around him, stopping on Jeff. The man pointed at Jeff and shrieked. “Nooo! It’s a Canadian! We were supposed to build a wall to prevent you bastards from getting in!” Luke grabbed the man’s shoulders and shook him. “Get a hold of yourself! Calm down! You’ll be fine!” The man continued to shriek before running out of breath and panting. “No..” he whimpered. “How could this happen…” Luke helped him up. “Please. Just calm down. What’s your name, sir?” The man mocked an offended look. “What, you’re saying you don’t know me? I’m the biggest, I’m the baddest, I’m Doland Blumpf. 46th president of the United States of Armenia.”


End file.
